Period 2 Advanced Geometry 202
by CraftyNotepad
Summary: For all the Seths in the world who love math.


Period 2 Advanced Geometry 202

Seth, Via, Tia, Owen, Roger Nutchie, Danny Dawkins, Pim, Troy Jackoway, Miss Hanks

09:25am - 10:15am

Disclaimer: Yes, I've done the math from every angle to prove that I own it ... just let me check my figures one more time!

Thanks to okaie for making life add up!

A second period class of the new quarter found Via, Tia, and Owen vying for the best seats remaining. They had all chatted along the way and they accepted that it had cost them their choice of networking on the first day, and possibly the rest of the term. In her signature three-inch stiletto heels, Miss Hanks measured each student as they had entered and nearly late arrivals didn't endear themselves to her.

The bell rings, and after nudges and pokes the last of the talkers isn't any more. Not quite the same as the beginning of the year, she thinks, but still an exciting first day with a new class, hoping this class will at least be as good as first period's group of students. Last term's students had taken advantage of her good nature and made her days miserable. She was determined to not let classroom discipline add up that way again.

Hold everything. Someone is still talking ... Tia!? Oh, no. I heard that she moved back! Why my class? Again.

At first Tia is oblivious to the clues that her companion is giving her to shut up, then she senses a presence and spins around to find herself staring eyeball to eyeball with Miss Hanks. Gulp!

"Welcome back, Tia. So nice to have your interest in learning math find its way into my class once again. What say you pick up your things and line up at the door?"

"I was only ... "

"I don't want a discussion, Tia. Just go line up."

"Miss Hanks, Tia was only ... "

"Roger? For a repetitive invention fair winner, you don't seem to ready to pick up on the fact that I'm the one who judges how you'll do in this class. Go line up behind Tia."

Roger Nutchie opens his mouth to protest again, this time for himself, but decides against it. It would not do to have the school call his parents in the mood that they're in right now.

Now, as I call your names, please line up at the door. We're all going to take a little trip. Bring your things."

A minute later, under the piercing gaze of her geometry teacher, Tia leads the students in the directions that Miss Hanks hands her on a need-to-know basis. Before they know it, they are there in the auditorium. This morning, it contains four billiard tables arranged in a X-formation on the east court, each complete with a vest and bow tie adorned pool enthusiast.

"Welcome to Geometry 201. Today, you'll enjoy some hands-on, real world experience with angles, guided by four of H. G. Wells's top pool experts. The first seven students, report to Seth Wosmer's table, next seven ... "

Without a shred of interest, Tia throws her white feathered boa over her shoulder and leads six students -- Roger, Via, and Owen among them -- to Seth's station. Fate, Seth thought.

Fate's bringing Tia and me together. First, both our families return to Pickford at almost the same time, then she's plopped down this morning at my table. Despite all her past boyfriends, we're the couple meant to be. Ahh, oh -- better get started.

"Welcome to the world of three-cornered billiards. The object of the game is simple: have your cue ball hit both the other balls, making at least three hits on the cushions surrounding the playing surface before striking the final ball in the process. It's application is Euclidean geometry with some simple subtraction and a dash of English tossed it to help with your problem solving. Miss Hanks has explained by now that while she doesn't expect you to become proficient today, she will be using billiards problems on your first quiz as well as tonight's homework. So give me your attention people, and I'll get you an "A."

"Give me the stick, Wosmer."

"It's a cue stick, Roger, and I'm teaching this -- HEY!"

"Let's get this baby lesson over with. Watch me sink the one over there."

"Roger, there's no place to sink anything. This is a billiards table, not a pool table. See any holes?"

Roger wasn't listening to Seth. Roger rarely listened to anyone. He had that in common with Tia, who, in her platform shoes, was now walking and texting behind Roger. Roj made his practice strokes and pulled back to deliver extra force and the exact moment the Tia backed into the butt of the cue. Butt met butt. Never mind string theory and the uncertainty principle; this was plain old Newtonian physics: action and reaction. Reacting to what she thought was someone groping her, Tia added quite a bit of force to the cue, but it was altering of where the cue's tip met the cue ball that really sent things flying. Striking the underside of the ball, the kinetic energy transfer launched the white sphere into the air, over the table's cushioned edge and directed it to strike one of the bleacher's fourteen vertical supports anchored to the auditorium's floor. Fortunately for old Roger, the cue ball was pretty tough. It didn't even chip. On the other hand, it made a substantial announcement concerning the end of it's flight, followed by a series of ever increasing high-frequency bounces that echoed again and again in the cavernous auditorium. Miss Hanks noticed. Everyone noticed. Roger was ordered to sit in bleachers and start working on page 11, problems 1-40 in his geometry text. No wiser, he asked odd or even -- pages 12 and 13 were added.

Once again in the possession of his cue stick, Seth returned to directing his group, "As Roger has just demonstrated, billiards incorporates both math and physics. 'Every action has an equal, yet opposite reaction.' So, if you don't respect the physics, then you'll be stuck doing the math."

His group chuckled, or at least smiled. Roger sent him twin death rays from his eyes. Tia lost interest after about a second-and-a-half and returned to finish up her text message, including her take on the bonehead maneuver of Roger's. Seth had lost her again.

"Okay, but we're not pool players, billiards, whatever -- when are we ever going to use this?"

"Usually, that question is reserved for algebra. Geometry is easier to visualize and fun to boot."

"Right. How about some examples of how angles mean anything in our lives, Seth?"

The pool champion takes a deep breath, not to think, but to prep himself for rapid fire response that he'll be aiming their way. "Angles in your life? How about setting up surround sound home theaters so sound waves will reflecting in on their owners? Tracking endangered undersea lifeforms without troublesome electronic tags? Sonar sensors that provide feedback to the Visually impaired about their surroundings so they can get about as we do? Virtual keyboards that project from your iPod to let you use a full keyboard to write a report or play a grand piano? You could design homes that use reflected sunlight to illuminate rooms deep inside buildings with natural light that don't have access to skylights so workers don't feel claustrophobic and work production goes up and everyone keeps their jobs. Your granny is in the hospital dying from clogged arteries and a medical technician aims laser light traveling up a catheter to clean away plaque from your grandmother's arteries so she'll be around to see her great grandchildren go to high school. Planning your winning shot in the Winter's racquetball championship. Improving your table tennis score against your father when you bet him chores against borrowing his car on Saturday night, designing fantastic ghostly effects for your house on Halloween, wearable flat screen televisions that bend, reflecting electrons to ... "

"Enough, Wosmer. You made your point," groaned a blonde.

"Alright then. Let's get started; who can finish this thought: 'Angle of incidence equals --' what?"

Chunks. The only one who probably knew the answer was Roger, and Seth figured that he wasn't going to contribute anymore this period.

"'The angle of incidence equals the angle of reflection," chimed in the small brunette.

"Exactly!" However, Seth allowed himself to be distracted by Tia yet again. No longer was she texting; now she was touching up her make-up. Did someone say something?

"--eth?? You okay? What's that about angles again?" Troy Jackoway asked with some concern.

"Right. Angles. Right. Ha-ha. Right Angles. Math humor. The angle of incidence is the angle at which the ball uses to reach the cushions on the table. Think of the table top as a green-felted plane and just consider one of the cushions now, and picture it as a wall on that plane. Send the ball hurtling at that wall at a forty-five degree angle and must also bounce off, or reflect off, the wall at a forty-five degree angle: angle of incidence equals the angle of reflection. It's the foundation for billiards and pool, but more importantly to you, it's what's on tonight's homework and what'll be on the upcoming quiz."

Keep driving home that it's in their best interest to stay focused and pay attention; that's what Miss Hanks had prepared her teaching assistants with. He had already lost Roger, Tia was never really here, and that tall Blonde guy with the dark eyebrows was spending more concentration on inching his way toward Tia than learning about geometry. Seth already decided that he didn't like the competition.

"So, you created a ninety degree right angle by the sphere striking the wall at a 45 degree angle?"

It was the brunette again and she wasn't really asking a question; she was clarifying her learning aloud -- and she got it.

"Yes. So a thirty-seven degree angle would yield?"

"An acute angle of seventy-four degrees."

Again the brunette and again the right answer state with confidence. Nicely presented, too. Owen was trying to balance a cue stick on his shoe without getting caught, except by Tia. He had succeeded, with Tia now imitating him.

"So striking the ball at zero degrees would make it return upon it's same path?"

Hey, was she teaching the class, or he? "Exactly."

"What was it you said about subtraction and English?"

Huh? She had been listening to him from the very start? Wow. "Some shooters plan their shots by utilizing the diamond system."

Tia's ears caught the 'D-word.' She stopped playing with her cue and listened to Seth for the first time and Seth noticed. Owen seemed undisturbed. Okay, maybe the wrong word. Owen seemed unaffected.

"The diamonds surrounding the table aren't there for decoration. They're part of the diamond system. With these marking and a little subtraction, a player can quickly work out the shot that will plan where the cue ball will travel to hit another ball in it's journey to at least three cushions."

Tia drifted off again, disillusioned with math diamonds. Owen was supporting his outstretched arms wrapped around the pool stick perched behind his neck. Roger felt the bleacher's bench bow down as another student joined him. He kinda' recognized the kid, a couple of grades under himself.

"Hey."

"How'd you get benched?"

"I don't even know. What's with the Teach? Word was she was cool."

Roger shrugged, then asked, "Aren't you a little young to be in this class?"

"I can handle it. I thought that I could use the perspective."

"From Advanced Geometry?"

"My life's complicated and I can't seem to get ahead no matter how hard I work. I figured, 'Geometry' -- why not? It might clue me in to seeing the all the angles. Besides, it was either this, or chess club, and I cannot be seen wearing one of their checkered vests."

Beneath the steps.

Out of sight, but not out of earshot.

Information was being gathered.

A conscious effort not to speak aloud was somehow being maintained, but oh, there was processing going on!

Why that sneaky conniver! I signed him up for the second period debating class so he could be skillfully telemarketing for me before and after school. If he thinks that he's going to gain insights into carving out for himself a piece of my burgeoning empire ... "

A moment later, the intercom blared, "Danny Dawkins, please report to the Debate Club in Room 218."

"Shoot!" Danny leaped up and fell flat across three of the lower bleacher benches, his shoelaces tied to Roger's. "Oh, no. She knows. I'm a dead man."

Back at the tables, "Man, why'd we have to have Via in our class? She's going to raise the curve." Via frowns at him; Seth looks gratefully at the guy. He's taught Seth that her name is "Via." What kind of a name is "Via?" Sounds like she is trying to recite the alphabet and discovering herself unsure of what follows "V." Not fair. She talks differently, in sort of unexpected-like sentence structures. Interesting.

He fell back to checking up on Tia. She had Owen behind her now, "teaching" her how to shoot using a bench, a clumped up ball of paper, and cue stick that they shared. Tia was giggling, and they weren't separating after the shot, but were getting even closer with a congratulatory hug while bouncing up and down. Let 'em bounce. That's alright. Give her a week and she'll be tired of him. Did she have to giggle like that?

"Oh poo. Seth, help please."

His heart leapt. "Who -- oh, Via.? What's a matter?"

"Connection. Seems that I'm not making one. Should I set up the shot again?"

"Okay, let me see what you were doing, Via."

Handing Seth her cue stick, Via returned the uncooperative balls to their original position. "I was using the diamond method, taking my shot here, at six, --"

"Okay, let's pause for a moment here. Although there are seven diamonds along a length, we only count them by whole numbers to figure the natural angle for connecting with the final ball, then we count by halves, starting at one-and-a-half, to determine the cue position. Subtract one from the other and then apply the answer with the whole numbered diamonds again. Try it this way: the natural angle is four. Cue position is two-and-a-half. Four minus two-and-a-half is one-and-a-half. So, hit it halfway between the first and second diamonds. Give it another try, please."

At the waist, Via bends down lower to the table top to keep the cue level and tries shooting. Her cue stick comes up nearly four inches short of the cue ball. Without saying a word, Seth steps in and repositions her small fingers flat on the cold rail, with the polished cue stick now resting on her left thumb and tucked away under her arching index digit. Vee lets out an unconfident sigh. Seth offers her one of his smiles. His encouragement isn't enough. The corners of her mouth start to quiver, and Seth, not wanting to see his top student crash and burn, silently offers to help. Starting with his right hand behind hers on the back of the cue stick, he walks behind Via and lays his left hand atop hers. Giving her cue stick a little motion, rocking it back, then forth, back, then forth, back, then forth, he lets her take the initiative of deciding upon when to make the shot, but he keeps his hands where they are, so they make their connection together as one with the center of the white ball.

Seth doesn't notice the path of the objects. He's already calculated the shot and knows that it will roll true. What he does notice is Via smelling of lilac and roses, and something else that he can't identify. Something untamed. Heat radiating from her body seems to be cooking his. He is grateful that he has long abandoned the practice of "turn them inside out so they'll be good for another day." What is her dress made of? Satin? Then, there is the sound of far away thunder. It's coming from his group clapping over the resulting shot.

"Is that how you want us to make the shots?" Roger called out from the bleachers.

"Yes, do the math first, then it wil -- "

"I mean, like you both did, with your eyes closed for the entire shot."

With that crack from the peanut gallery Via and Seth separate a bit. The rest of the period gives all the students not warming a bench the chance to be successful. Most are. Seth is still stealing glances whenever he can, but rarely at Tia, still when he does, she doesn't look like the most beautiful girl in school any longer, and he realizes that her popularity and her taste in boys are both based on looks and money; beyond that, what interest would anyone have in or for her? There she is, making a rude gesture to her new favorite with a pool cue, after he had suggested that he was up to the task of sinking one into her hole. Yes, Seth gave them a week -- two tops -- but that didn't matter anymore. He lets that image be the last one that he'll collect for his mental scrapbook of her, then looks at the students at his table trying to bounce shots off of more than four cushions. They are interested. And Via? She is looking at him. Every time he looks her way, his eyes meet hers.

The bell rang and Miss Hanks dismissed the class with the assignment of the first ten problems on page eleven.

Via stays behind to talk to Seth under the guise of helping him straighten up. Miss Hanks tells her not to be late to her next class.

"I won't be, Miss. I just want to help Seth straighten things for the next class."

Celine Hanks took measure of the girl before her. She decided that she was sharp, mature for her age, and attuned to seeing people with a talent beyond her years, perhaps rivaling her own. A smile appeared on Miss Hanks face without her permission. All today's billiards instructors could do the math, but Seth Wosmer was the only one who actually took delight in it. Admittedly, she had always liked the boy, and now a girl had taken an interest in a favorite student of hers who always seemed to be struggling with relationships of any nonnumeric nature. Picturing the two of them together, she considered that this might add up to be her best teaching accomplishment this year. Her smile grew incrementally with time.

"That's fine. Seth, I can trust you to be ready for the next class?" she asked just to make conversation and bolster the image of his being responsible in front of the girl.

"Everything will be ready."

"Fine, Seth. You're in charge. Excellent work with the last group, by the way. Thank you."

Defying gravity with her high heels, Miss Hanks exited the auditorium with just a single glance at the couple straightening cue sticks and picking up loose sheets of paper left by the students sent to the benches. Maybe she was already getting soft again, but try as she might, she wasn't successful in untangling the smile from her lips before third period began.


End file.
